


A World We Must Defend

by awkwardgturtle



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Pokemon Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 16:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardgturtle/pseuds/awkwardgturtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete is a Pokémon trainer just starting off on his journey to the Indigo League in hopes of becoming a Pokémon master. Along the way he challenges and loses to Patrick, another rookie trainer, but one with far more knowledge and natural talent than Pete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A World We Must Defend

Pete was going to die. He knew it. His feet ached, his tongue was dry and his eyes stung from the sweat dripping from his brow. He stopped to rest, propping himself up on a sign as he caught his breath. When he looked up, all he saw was “YOU ARE NOW LEAVING PALLET TOWN” in bold black letters stamped across the sign. Pete glanced back to see his mother waving at him from the porch. He groaned.

“They could have picked a cooler day to hand out Pokémon,” Pete muttered to himself as he hefted his backpack.

Despite his complaining, Pete knew this was the only way he could reach his dream of defeating the Elite Four and becoming a Pokémon Master. His parents had told him that his dream was silly and that he was aiming too high, but Pete was never one to do something halfway. Why just wade when you can do a cannonball? Why just light a match when you can light a fire? Why just be a trainer when you can be a master? Plus, it was far better than going back to school or taking some shitty job interning at Professor Oak's lab like his mom had suggested.

So Pete sucked it up and went on, wiping his sweat away as he ducked into the shade. He trudged through the tall grass at a steady pace in hopes of reaching Viridian City as quickly as possible.

That plan went to hell when he accidentally stepped on a Pokémon’s tail when he wasn’t paying attention. An angry Rattata sprung from the grass, trying latch onto Pete with its tiny claws and huge buck teeth. Pete made a run for it, not trusting his overheated brain enough to battle. Pete glanced behind him to find the Rattata fast on his heels. Pete swore when he caught the blur of another Pokémon to his left. What a way to start off, the thought. He was going to die before he even reached Viridian City, flanked by wild Pokémon. It didn't surprise him when the second Pokémon attacked, spitting a jet of water toward Pete. Pete dove to the ground, but the water missed him completely, hitting the Rattata instead. Pete lifted his head in time to see the wild Pokémon stand and shake out its fur before scampering off.

The blur of a Pokémon, which Pete now saw was a Squirtle, was approaching along with a sweet-faced, red-headed trainer. "Are you okay?" the boy asked. "You looked like you needed help."

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Pete panted, slumping against a tree. “I thought I was a goner.”

The boy looked relieved. “You really shouldn’t be wandering through the grass without a Pokémon. It’s really dangerous.”

Pete plucked the Pokéball from his belt and waved it at the boy. “I do have a Pokémon, see?”

The boy’s eyebrows rose. “Um. Use it?”

“Are you kidding?” Pete laughed. “It’s a million degrees outside! I’m not taking out my Charmander unless I’m on the brink of death.”

“You nearly were. Besides, fire-type Pokémon are not the best for beginners.”

Pete narrowed his eyes as he stood, less than impressed by the kid's superior tone. “Yeah? And what makes you think that?”

The boy smirked and pointed down the road. “Well, I happen to know that the nearest gym is in Viridian City, but it's been closed for months. That means the first leader you'll be facing is Brock.”

“So?” Pete scoffed. “I knew that.” Not really, but the kid didn’t need to know.

“So,” he replied, speaking slowly as if Pete were a mental patient, “Brock specializes in rock-type Pokémon, so against you, he would have the advantage, since fire isn't very effective on rock. Unless you plan on catching more Pokémon, there's no way you'll win.”

“And I suppose you would?” Pete said with a little more bitterness than he intended.

A shrug. “I have the type advantage.”

“Type advantage isn't everything. Let's see if you can hold up in a real battle.” Pete grabbed his Pokéball and threw it toward the boy. “Charmander, go!”

He only rolled his eyes. “Squirtle, use water gun.”

Charmander had barely materialized when it was hit dead-on with a stream of water. The Pokémon fell to the ground immediately.

“T-that wasn’t even fair!” Pete sputtered, but the boy just shook his head.

“Fire-type is weak against water-type,” he said calmly, dismissing his Squirtle to its Pokéball. “I suggest you learn more about Pokémon before you take on the Pokémon League.”

With that, he left.

“Whatever,” Pete grumbled, then looked to his Charmander, who was attempting to stand on unsteady feet. “Are you going to be okay?”

The Pokémon glanced down the road after the boy and his Squirtle. “Char,” it said sadly.

Pete waved a hand. “Don’t let him get you down. That was only our first battle. We’ll get better from here, I promise.” He leaned over and gave Charmander a pat on the head. “I bet we’ll even get a hit in next time.”

“Char,” Charmander replied, seeming torn between feeling encouraged or puzzled.

“Come on,” Pete said, pulling out a Pokéball, “Let’s get you to a Pokémon Center.”

Pete recalled Charmander, sighing as he tucked the ball back into his belt. “We’ll prove that kid wrong,” he muttered, then started down the road again.

(-) (-) (-) (-) (-) (-)

 

Pete sat in the lobby of the Viridian City Pokémon Center, attempting to amuse himself with making obnoxious squeaking sounds on the tile floor with the soles of his shoes. He was still slightly bitter from his ill-fated battle on the road, not to mention that he’d been scolded by Nurse Joy about his “recklessness” in letting his wounded Charmander fight too hard. He’d nodded along, too tired to argue with her as a Chansey carted his Pokémon away for treatment.

Just as Pete was halfway through playing “Ode to Joy” on the polished floor, someone sauntered into the center, shouting, “Hey, Nurse Joy! I need you to help my Arbok!”

Pete turned in his chair. “Wait your turn, man. She’s already taking care of my Charmander.”

The guy turned toward Pete and grinned. “Ah, I didn’t see you there. Did the kid beat you too?”

“The kid?” Pete asked, though he was fairly sure he knew who he meant.

“Yeah, the cute red-head and his Squirtle,” the guy said, confirming Pete’s suspicions. “He’s got a lot of talent for a rookie. He beat my Arbok in two moves.”

“That’s better than I did,” Pete grumbled bitterly.

Moments later, someone else burst through the door, cradling a wounded Ninetails in her arms.

“I told you not to challenge him, Vic” the guy teased, earning a sharp glare from the woman.

“I don’t want to hear it, Gabe.”

“Seriously, if he can kick my ass and I can kick your ass, you don’t stand a chance!”

She made a face. “I could kick your ass any time.”

“Nah, you love it too much.”

She made a disgusted noise. “You wish.”

As the two bickered, Nurse Joy returned with Pete’s Charmander. “Be careful with him, now,” she reminded as she handed him the Pokéball. “Fight responsibly. Don’t let him get that injured again.”

Pete offered a non-committal, “I’ll try,” before going on his way. He didn’t miss the disapproving look the nurse gave him has he walked out the door. It was the same as the numerous looks his mother had given him over the course of his life.

Validating Nurse Joy’s concerns, he headed straight for the Gym, despite what the kid on the road had told him. He’s probably trying to throw me off track, Pete told himself. The Gym probably isn’t even closed.

The Gym was closed.

Pete gave a frustrated sigh and kicked the door.

“I told you it would be closed,” came a voice from behind him.

Pete turned to face the kid, trying very hard not to be charmed by his blue-green eyes and gentle face. “Yeah, well I’m nothing if not cynical.”

“That’s not exactly a trait to brag about,” the boy pointed out.

Pete shrugged. “I’m not the one building a reputation around here.”

“I’m not trying to,” he said coyly. “People keep challenging me and I keep winning. It’s not like I’m storming the streets demanding battles with everyone I see.”

“It’d be good practice,” Pete said thoughtfully.

The kid shook his head. “Not really. You should build a relationship with your Charmander first. It will be more willing to fight for you if it likes you.”

“It doesn’t matter much if Brock is going to kick my ass like you said,” Pete retorted.

“I said you’d be at a disadvantage, not that you’d lose,” he shot back. “Look, you’re going to be going through Viridian Forest on your way to Pewter City right?”

Pete nodded. “There’s not really another way to get there. Why?”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Well, I was thinking since we were going in the same direction, we could go together and I can give you some tips to help you beat Brock on the way.”

“Go together?” Pete echoed. “Are you asking me out? I don’t even know your name yet. I might be easy, but I’m not that easy.”

“Again, not a trait that’s normally flaunted,” he said. “And I’m Patrick, if you want to know.”

Pete offered a hand. “Pete,” he replied as Patrick shook it.

“Cool,” was all Patrick said, then sort of stood awkwardly for a moment.

After a while, Pete smirked. “So were you going to ask me out or not?”

Patrick rolled his eyes and walked away. Pete grinned and followed.

(-) (-) (-) (-) (-) (-)

 

As Pete and Patrick made their way through Viridian Forest, an awkward silence hung heavily over them. Patrick spent most of the time staring down at the road, clearly not comfortable traveling with a stranger, despite it being his idea. When it became increasingly obvious Patrick would not be breaking the silence anytime soon, Pete took the task upon himself.

“So,” Pete drawled, “you’re going to fight Brock too, huh?”

Patrick cast him a sideways glance. “Um. No, not exactly.”

“What?” That was not the answer he had expected. “Why not?”

Patrick shrugged. “I’m not going to the Indigo League, so I don’t see the point.”

Pete gave him a disapproving frown. “What are you talking about? You’re the best trainer I’ve met so far. I’m sure you’ll do great in the Pokémon League.”

A faint color bloomed across Patrick’s cheeks. “Thanks, but that’s not-- I mean, I’m not talking about my skills, okay? I don’t want to.”

“Don’t want to?” Pete parroted in disbelief. “How can you not want to?”

“I just like Pokémon,” Patrick said. “I want to raise them and take care of them, not battle them so I can feel better about myself.”

“That’s not what the Pokémon League is about,” Pete argued. “It’s about teamwork! It’s about becoming closer to your Pokémon and achieving something together!”

“Jesus, keep your voice down,” Patrick hissed. “You’re going to wake up every Spearow in this place.”

“Sorry,” Pete said, lowering his voice. “I get... passionate sometimes.”

“I can tell.”

“I just...” Pete continued. “I’m just disappointed that someone with so much potential isn’t going to live up to it.”

Patrick simply looked at him and smiled. “It’s not about being a Pokémon Master for everyone, Pete.”

Pete shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage. “One less trainer I have to beat, I guess. So, if you’re not fighting Brock, why are you going to Pewter City?”

“I don’t mean to stay there,” Patrick explained. “It’s just on my way home from Pallet Town. My family lives in Cerulean City.”

“And you live with them?”

Patrick nodded. “Until I can stand on my own, yeah.”

“Doing what?” Pete asked. “Are you going to school?”

“No,” Patrick answered timidly. “I’m really into music. So, um. I’m kind of hoping I can make a living off that.”

“Oh,” Pete said, mildly surprised. “I wasn’t aware that there was much of a music scene in Cerulean City.”

“There isn’t, really,” Patrick admitted, “but I played a couple shows in Celadon once with my friend’s band. I’m thinking of getting an apartment there and maybe—” Patrick was cut off by a shrill sound that made them both jump. “What the hell was that?”

“It sounded like a Pokémon,” Pete remarked. “Come on, we have to help it!”

“Pete, wait!” Patrick called as Pete took off after the noise. “We can’t just—” Patrick let out a heavy sigh when Pete didn’t even slow and ran after him.

It wasn’t long before they entered a small clearing and found the source of the noise: an angry Fearow was looming over an injured Butterfree, pecking at its fragile wings. The Butterfree let out the same pathetic noise, followed by a pained and pleading “Free! Free!”

Pete reached for a Pokéball at his belt, but Patrick grabbed his hand. “Pete, don’t. Wild Fearow are vicious Pokémon. If you attack it, it will only get pissed off and bring its friends back here to kick our asses.”

Pete bared his teeth, but he let go of Charmander’s Pokéball. “I can’t just stand by and let it kill that Butterfree,” he hissed.

“We have to, Pete,” Patrick said sadly. “We can’t fight the Fearow. Even if we could, the Butterfree is too injured to fly away before something else attacks, and we don’t know how to treat an injured wild Pokémon.”

“Nurse Joy would,” Pete muttered to himself.

“Yeah, but we wouldn’t be able to bring her here in time,” Patrick pointed out.

Pete perked up a little, an idea suddenly striking. He reached into his backpack and pulled out an empty Pokéball. “No, but we can bring it to her!”

“Pete, what—” Patrick began, then “Oh, shit,” as Pete lobbed the Pokéball at the Butterfree.

The Fearow’s head snapped up as his prey disappeared into the ball, fury flashing in its eyes.

“Shit!” Patrick swore. “Pete, run!” Instead, Pete jumped into the clearing, making a grab for the now-occupied Pokéball. “Pete!”

The Fearow squawked and pecked at Pete’s legs, causing him to reel backwards, cursing.

“Oh my god,” Patrick said, burying his face in his hands.

Pete scooped up the Pokéball and high-tailed it out of the clearing, Patrick bolting after him as the Fearow spread its wings and took to the air.

“Fuck!” Patrick panted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! I hope you’re fucking happy, Pete! You are the biggest idiot on the planet!”

“Less talking, more fleeing,” Pete shot back, resisting the urge to look behind him to see if the bird was still following.

A screech came from above him, nearly drowning out Patrick’s cry of “Duck!” as Pete caught a glimpse of the bird swooping into a powerful dive. He dropped immediately, hitting the ground at full force and skidding across the thick grass as the bird sliced the air over his head. Patrick was not quite as graceful with his landing, tripping over Pete before he could slow his run and going down in a heap an arm’s length away.

Pete immediately scrambled to his feet and hoisted Patrick up by the arm. “Come on, I think Pewter City is close. We can take cover in the Poké Center.”

“If we make it to the Poké Center,” Patrick snapped, but Pete ignored him, dragging him along as he took off down the road again.

Sure enough, they burst out of the forest a few moments later and onto a paved road. The Fearow circled above them, hesitant to enter the city, then flew off a moment later. Though they were no longer pursued, Pete and Patrick didn’t stop running until they reached the Poké Center. There, they collapsed onto the waiting room chairs, gasping for breath.

“You know, I seem to be spending a lot of time running away from shit,” Pete commented between breaths.

“Next thing you know, you’ll have a Charizard chasing you from here to Lavender Town,” Patrick said, wiping the sweat from his face. “If you want to piss off a wild Pokémon, don’t involve me next time.”

Before Pete’s exhausted brain could conjure up a retort, Nurse Joy approached with a Chansey bouncing cheerily at her side. “May I help you two?”

“Yeah,” Pete answered, pulling out the Butterfree’s Pokéball and handing it to her. “We found this injured Butterfree in Viridian Forest. It was attacked by a Fearow and it really needs your help.”

“Oh, dear,” Nurse Joy gasped. “I hope you didn’t try to fight it. A Fearow can be very dangerous when it’s angry.”

Pete forced a smile. “I never would have guessed.”

Nurse Joy shook her head. “And for one to pick on a helpless Butterfree...” She sighed and grabbed the Pokéball from his hand. “You two wait right here. I’ll do what I can for Butterfree.”

Patrick watched her leave, a distressed look in his eyes. “Do you think she can help it?” he said, almost whispering.

“Nurse Joy is a professional,” Pete assured. “She probably sees things like this all the time.” Patrick did not look even remotely reassured, so Pete reached over to grab his hand. Patrick looked down at their hands, then up at Pete. “I’m sure Butterfree will be fine,” Pete said quietly.

Something relaxed in Patrick’s face at that. “Thanks,” he said, sliding his hand out of Pete’s and placing it on his lap, then looked pointedly away.

Seconds ticked by slowly and Pete could feel the awkwardness setting in again, so he kicked Patrick’s ankle. “Hey, Patrick.”

Patrick didn’t bother to look over. “What?”

“You know, you told me you’d tell me how to beat Brock, and I haven’t learned anything yet besides which birds not to piss off.”

Patrick bolted upright, as if he’d forgotten all about it. “Oh, yeah,” he said, then thought for several seconds. “Okay, so does your Charmander know Ember yet?”

Pete bit his lip. “I’m not sure. How do I tell?”

“Well, has it used it in battle?”

Pete said nothing.

“Have you even battled with Charmander at all?” Patrick asked slowly.

Pete was silent again. “I battled you,” he offered finally.

Patrick threw a pleading look at the ceiling. “Fine, get it out. We’ll start from the beginning.”

(-) (-) (-) (-) (-) (-)

 

Patrick was in the middle of explaining to Pete that no, he shouldn’t use Scratch on a rock-type – “Have you tried scratching a rock? That shit doesn’t work.” – when Nurse Joy returned with news on Butterfree.

“It’s looking much better,” she said, “but its wings are still rather weak, and they may not fully recover.”

“So it would probably be a bad idea to release it back into the wild, huh?” Pete asked.

“Yes, it would,” she agreed, “but you caught it, so it is rightfully yours and you are free to do what you please with it.”

Pete shook his head. “I’m not going to abandon it if it can’t fend for itself.”

Nurse Joy nodded in approval. “Good. You may come see it if you’d like.”

They nodded and followed her into the back where the Butterfree was lying on one of the recovery beds.

“Free!” it cried when it caught sight of Pete, leaping upright. “Free, free! Butterfree!”

“Well, it looks better,” Patrick laughed as the Butterfree fluttered its wings in an attempt to fly to Pete.

Pete made his way toward Butterfree and gave it a pat on the head. “Take it easy, buddy. You’ll be alright.”

“Free!” it said, nuzzling into Pete’s arm.

Nurse Joy giggled. “I think it’s trying to thank you.”

“Well, you’re welcome, Butterfree,” Pete said with a grin, then turned to Nurse Joy. “I’m going to be leaving to challenge the Gym leader soon, so can I take Butterfree with me, or should I keep it here until I get back?”

“Well, it looks like it wants to go with you,” she replied, watching the Butterfree nuzzle his side, “besides, the fresh air might do it some good.”

“How ‘bout it, Butterfree?” Pete asked the Pokémon. “Do you want to beat Brock with me?”

“Free!” Butterfree confirmed, flapping its wings excitedly.

Pete looked at Patrick. “What about you? Are you coming?”

Patrick chewed on his lip. “I can’t. I should get home.”

“Oh.” Pete wilted.

“You could always stop by, though,” Patrick offered. “I live right across the street from the Cerulean City Gym, so it’s kind of on your way.”

“Of course,” Pete muttered stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’ll see you around, then.”

“Yeah,” Patrick replied, scuffing the floor with his shoe. “See you around.” With that, he turned on his heel and left.

Pete stared after him for a moment, until Butterfree nudged his arm. Pete forced a smile. “Come on, Butterfree, let’s get ourselves a Badge.”

“Free!” Butterfree replied, then jumped onto Pete’s arm as he followed Patrick out the door.

(-) (-) (-) (-) (-) (-)

 

Patrick honestly only meant to spend a few minutes in the Poké Mart before going on his way home. Except one moment he was about to have a heart attack at the rising price of potions, and the next he was pondering if it would be worth it to by a repel, only to be distracted by a Pokédoll that his mother would just love, and next thing he knew, the sun was setting. Patrick sighed, looking down the path leading to Cerulean City. He knew that the road was dangerous at night, but his mom would worry if he wasn’t home by dinner the next day.

He was about to turn around, resigned to spending the night at the Pokémon Center, when he heard someone call his name. He turned toward the voice to find someone running his way,

“Pete?” He asked incredulously. “Why are you here?”

“I was about to ask the same thing,” Pete panted as he slowed to a stop. “I thought you were going home.”

“I was delayed,” Patrick explained lamely, then gestured at the darkening red sky, “and now it’s getting dark. What about you? I thought you were going to battle Brock.”

“I did,” Pete said, pulling a small, metallic object from his pocket and waving it before Patrick’s face.

“That’s a Boulder Badge,” Patrick gasped in disbelief. “You won?”

“Yeah,” Pete said. “It was pretty amazing. Charmander was knocked out pretty early, but without your tips, it wouldn’t have even survived that long.”

“Wait,” Patrick interrupted, “Charmander was knocked out? How did you win if Charmander was knocked out?”

Pete grinned. “That’s the amazing part. I was going to have Butterfree sit out the fight, but as soon as Charmander went down, it jumped in and hit Brock’s Onix with a Confusion attack. I’ve never seen a Pokémon that big lose to a Butterfree before.” Pete sighed blissfully. “It was awesome. You should have been there.”

Patrick’s face heated up. “Yeah, it sounds great.”

“So,” Pete said, glancing down the road, “does my damsel in distress need an escort?”

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the offer, Prince Charming, but I just thought I’d wait until morning.”

Pete scoffed. “Oh, come on! Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I seem to have dropped it when we were running away from that Fearow,” Patrick retorted. “I’ve had enough adventure, thank you very much.”

“Fine,” Pete said, shrugging as he started down the road.

“Wait!” Patrick shouted after him. “Where the hell are you going?”

“To Cerulean City,” Pete shouted back. “I have a badge to get, whether you’re coming with me or not.”

Patrick stood sputtering for a moment before running after Pete. “You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days!”

Pete smirked. “Keep telling yourself that, milady.”

Patrick punched him in the arm.

(-) (-) (-) (-) (-) (-)

 

“We made it!” Pete announced as they approached Cerulean City. “We made it, and no one got hurt this time!”

“And here I was, worrying that you’d taunt an Onix,” Patrick quipped, though he was equally excited to be back home.

“Dude, an Onix is nothing. We could totally beat an Onix.” Pete slung an arm around Patrick’s shoulders. “Seriously, with your talent and my ambition, we’re like the perfect trainer. Together, we’d be unbeatable!”

Patrick ducked away. “I know. You’ve only told me a hundred times since we left Pewter City.”

“I’m just letting you know that my offer still stands,” Pete said, as though his offer were actually tempting.

“I’m not going with you, Pete,” Patrick replied.

Pete shrugged. “Have it your way.”

It was nearly midnight by the time they reached Patrick’s house. They both stood uneasily by the door, until Patrick piped up.

“I should probably get to bed,” he said, staring at the ground.

“Yeah, it’s getting late,” Pete replied, chewing his lips thoughtfully. Finally he said, “Look, if you’re sure about not coming with me...”

“I am,” Patrick interrupted, his jaw set stubbornly.

“I know,” Pete chuckled before grabbing a Pokéball off of his belt and placing it in Patrick’s hands. “I want you to have this.”

Patrick stared at it, dumbfounded. “This is your Butterfree.”

“Yours now, I guess,” Pete corrected with a shy smile. “It’s just... I don’t want to fight with it or it might get hurt again. That, and with all my traveling, it wouldn't get the care it needs. I just think you would take care of it better than I could.”

Patrick eyed the Pokéball a while longer, turning it over in his hands as he considered Pete’s words. Suddenly, he surged forward, pressing his lips against Pete’s. Pete made a surprised noise, but quickly returned the kiss, shoving his tongue past Patrick’s lips. Feeling a bit weak in the knees, Patrick braced himself against the door. Pete seemed to take this as an invitation to press him up against it and shove his legs between Patrick’s.

Patrick pulled away, gasping. “Pete.”

“Yeah,” Pete breathed, backing off. “Sorry. I should probably get to the Pokémon Center before your dad starts flashing the porch light at us or something.”

Patrick blinked up at him. “We don’t have a porch light.”

“Well, in that case,” Pete said, grinning deviously as he tilted Patrick’s chin up for another kiss. “Seriously, though,” he continued, “I should go. Big day tomorrow and all.”

“Of course,” Patrick agreed, stepping back.

Pete waved goodbye and turned to leave, but Patrick grabbed his shoulder.

“Wait,” he said, blushing when Pete raised an eyebrow in question. “Our gym leader, Misty, uses water-type Pokémon. You’d be at a disadvantage again, but if you avoid her attacks and use your normal-type moves, you should be able to win.”

“Thanks, Patrick,” Pete said, kissing the tip of his nose. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Patrick muttered. “See you around.”

“Definitely.”

With that, Patrick ducked into his house, watching Pete leave through the front window. A shocking realization dawned on Patrick belatedly as he glanced down at the Pokéball in his hand. Butterfree may have been Pete’s only chance at beating Misty, but he gave it to Patrick instead. Patrick smiled to himself, shaking his head. “Idiot,” he muttered, then headed up to bed.

(-) (-) (-) (-) (-) (-)

 

It wasn’t until a year later that Pete found himself in Cerulean City once again. He’d been obliterated by Misty the first time they battled, but he came back the next day with a vengeance (and a newly-caught Oddish) and won the day. Since then, he’d gathered the remaining six badges and was on his way home to take a short break before going on his way to the Indigo Plateau. As soon as he reached Cerulean City, though, he knew he’d have to make a detour. That’s how he found himself knocking at Patrick’s door, desperately hoping that Patrick would remember him.

When the door opened, Patrick stood on the other side, just as beautiful and sweet-faced as Pete remembered. “Pete,” he said as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. “You’re back.”

“Yeah, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by.” Pete winced internally. Way to go with the cliché.

Patrick didn’t seem to mind, if his smile was any indication. “Do you want to come in?” He asked, stepping back from the doorway.

Pete nodded and followed him inside where his Butterfree bounced around, playing with a Vulpix and a familiar-looking Wartortle.

“Your Squirtle evolved,” Pete pointed out.

“Yeah, it’s been like that for a while,” Patrick confirmed. “Your Butterfree can fly now, by the way. Not very well, but it just needs some exercise.”

Pete smiled fondly. “I knew you’d take good care of it.”

Patrick blushed. “It wasn’t anything special.”

“It really was,” Pete said, not giving Patrick time to disagree before continuing. “So, I was just dropping by on my way to the Pokémon League.”

“The Pokémon League?” Patrick repeated, then smirked. “I hate to break it to you, but you and your Charmander wouldn’t last two seconds against the Elite Four, no matter how lucky you were with the Gym leaders.”

“Charizard now,” Pete corrected, “and I beat them all fair and square. Besides, I have plenty of Pokémon now. My Vaporeon sort of reminds me of you.”

“Because it looks like a fish?” Patrick deadpanned.

“Actually, the term ‘wet blanket’ comes to mind,” Pete retorted.

Patrick smacked him on the shoulder, but Pete only laughed.

“You’re an asshole,” Patrick stated. “I really did miss you, though.”

Pete’s laughter died off at once. “So did I,” he said seriously. “Are your parents home?”

“No, they’re out—”

Pete was on Patrick before he could finish the sentence, kissing him hard. Patrick opened for him almost immediately, groaning into Pete’s mouth as he tangled his fingers in his hair. That lasted all of four seconds before Pete was jumping backwards, sputtering and soaked. The Pokémon stood by, all looking rather amused.

“Wartortle!” Patrick scolded, “I told you, no Water Gun in the house!”

Wartortle put on an innocent face, but Pete was laughing anyway. “I guess it’s not your parents I should have been worried about.”

“I’m so sorry,” Patrick apologized. “I’ll get you a towel.”

“It’s fine,” Pete assured. “Besides, a towel wouldn’t do much for my clothes and I don’t think your parents would appreciate me walking around your house naked.”

“Yeah, but you’re dripping on the carpet,” Patrick pointed out.

Pete looked down. “Oh.”

“Maybe we should take this outside,” Patrick suggested.

“Actually, I should probably go,” Pete said, checking the time on his Pokédex. “My mom is expecting me home by Friday, and I want to have some time to stop by the Poké Mart in Viridian City before I get there.”

Patrick tried his best not to look disappointed. “Oh, okay.”

“My offer is still open, though,” Pete reminded. “The Pokémon League doesn’t start for another month and I’m headed home to take a break. I’m sure my mom would love to have you around for a while.”

“My Pokémon...” Patrick started, but the excuse sounded weak, even to him.

“Bring them with,” Pete offered with a grin. “Come on, Pattycakes, it’ll be just like old times.”

“Don’t ever call me that again,” Patrick warned. “I’ll call my mother.”

Pete grinned. “I’ll meet you outside.”

(-) (-) (-) (-) (-) (-)

 

It wasn’t really as much like old times as Pete suggested, especially since there wasn’t much to their “old times” in the first place. Pete talked about each Gym battle in full detail while Patrick listened carefully, since he claimed nothing of note happened to him. They were nearly to Pallet Town, and Patrick was in the process of teasing Pete about a lost battle when Pete simply stopped in is tracks.

Patrick slowed to a stop as well. “What?”

Pete made a face, then grabbed Patrick’s shoulders, moving him a little to the left. “Here, stand over there for a second.”

“Why?” Pete asked, thoroughly puzzled.

“Because,” Pete said, beaming, “you are now standing in the same spot you were when we first met.”

“When I first kicked your ass, you mean,” Patrick corrected, flushing despite himself.

“I wasn’t ready,” Pete said defensively.

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

Pete placed a hand on his belt. “Rematch?”

Patrick smiled, reaching for a Pokéball. “Just like old times.”


End file.
